


The Second Hand Unwinds

by RedLeaderfic



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18810565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: Ghosts of Full Sail past give Velveteen Dream the the chance to relive one night that he has never been able to stop thinking about - as long as he's very careful how he does it.





	The Second Hand Unwinds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



> Happy H/C Exchange Day! (Night?) I hope it's a good one!

Dream sat on the ground against the production trailer, his hands laced behind his head and his elbows leaning against his pulled up knees as he stared at the hedgerow that separated the little patio area from the Full Sail parking lot proper. Not that the hedge it self was at all fascinating, at course, but what had happened _behind_ it, oh, that would be playing in his head for a very long time. All kinds of variations of it too, a murderer’s row of possibilities of how Aleister Black had wound up laying motionless on the ground. He felt like if he willed it just enough he would be able to see it. As if feuding with Aleister all that time could have attuned him to the spooky nonsense the man lived in, not that it had seemed to help him tonight.

Dream heard footsteps approaching but didn’t look up. “Security has informed me that only students are allowed on campus at this hour,” he heard Regal say, sounding amused at someone having the nerve to give him an errand.

“If they want the Dream to leave they can come over their own damn selves.”

“I upbraided them for being so timid, I assure you.”

“And yet still you’re here.”

“Not by their bidding, I assure you.” Dream didn’t need to look up to know Regal had that shark’s smile on his face and could only imagine how thoroughly he’d made campus security aware of where they stood in the pecking order. “You help no one by sitting here,” Regal said, his voice softening.

“Who said anything about any of that?” Dream said, every hackle going up. The last thing he was interested in tonight was William Regal being paternal at him.

“Ah. My mistake, then.” Dream noticed that Regal was looking at that spot over the hedge and let his gaze follow too, like that six feet of pavement had its own gravity. “Well, since you seem to have no plans for the night I suppose I can begin my investigation here. Where were you tonight, Velveteen Dream?”

Dream felt his head snap up like it was pulled on a string, a snarl slipping out before he could even think to choke it back. “If you’re thinking I had _anything_ to do with….”

Regal raised one hand, cutting him off. “Either you can cooperate with what I promise you will be a very thorough set of questions,” Regal said, letting the threat hang in the air for a second, “or you can go home. Get some sleep and put off thinking about any of this until the morning.”

Dream resented Regal trapping him this thoroughly. “How long do you think he was laid out like that before anyone found him?” 

Regal let out a soft sigh and crouched down, putting one hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Tomorrow, I said.”

Dream glared at him to back off but no one in history had ever won that contest with William Regal; after a few moments Dream was forced to shrug casually and push himself back to his feet, as if he’d suddenly decided this was all beyond his concern. “Whatever. The Dream does in fact have plans for tonight so I will need you to step back.”

Regal was not one to roll his eyes at people but Dream got the feeling he was fighting the temptation just then. “Very well,” he said, indeed stepping back to give him space. Deep in his heart Dream was a little disappointed that Regal wasn’t allowing him to pick a fight, even a fight he would definitely regret come morning. “But don’t dawdle.”

Dream _was_ one to roll his eyes and did so, doing his best to make it audible, then sauntered away, only ducking his head and burying his hands in his pockets when he looked behind and saw that Regal was out of sight. Maybe he should swing by the hospital and see how Aleister was doing. No, no, that was stupid, the hell would he even do there and it wasn’t like he knew which hospital they’d brought him to, anyway. Regal was right for once, go home, get some sleep, forget this whole night had even happened.

_The alarm got raised about two hours after final bell so he could have been on the ground over an hour, easy._

Dream shook the thought away and walked faster, doing everything he could to keep his thoughts from circling. Obviously it couldn’t have been that long, being unconscious for that much time would be…would be bad and Dream refused to let his thoughts stray in that direction. People walked by there all the time, someone would have seen. Someone should have seen.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t _let this go._

Dream went back to the locker room and started tossing his things into his gear bag, then sat on the bench and stared into the empty space. _Ciampa. Had to be._ He had the best motive, at any rate, and that belt he kept clutched to his chest would make a quick and easy weapon. He’d have every reason to want Aleister out of that triple threat. But on the other hand Cole and his goons had been around too and went scarce right around then, maybe Cole was angling to get in the match himself? It fit his MO and it being the four of them could explain how Aleister could be taken down without anyone noticing. And Sullivan was still bitter about the trouncing Aleister had given him, he definitely had it in him to be opportunistic and nasty.

Dream looked up and realized he’d lost another half hour ruminating his list of suspects. He rubbed his hands over his face and tried to push this entire night deep deep down was far as it would go. What did it matter who did it, really. None of this was his problem. They’d had one match _months_ ago, that Aleister Black didn’t have any friends to watch his back was his own problem, not Dream’s. 

Dream scraped some mud off the heel of his boot; it had rained during the taping, one of those quick Florida cloudbursts that came and went this time of year and he’d cut across the grass to get back to the locker room faster. 

He wondered if Aleister had been cold lying on the damp concrete for all that time.

Dream slammed the locker door shut hard enough to shake the whole row, punching the door when he could still see his dim reflection in the metal. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when the locker at the end of the row popped open and something small shot out of it, ricocheting across the opposite wall and rolling up against his boot. He picked it up and saw it was a large gold coin, a celtic knot on one side and two arches on the other. He got up and crept over to the offending locker – it had been Balor’s once upon a time, his name still written on the label. Unlike at the PC no one inherited the champion’s locker at Full Sail once he or she had moved on, it stayed vacant as a show of respect, even the students leaving it be. Dream could see a loose ledge far in the back, maybe the coin had been jammed in there? Nothing else seemed to be left there, aside from some well wishes and old congratulations taped to the inside of the door. He looked around and saw that no one had been around to witness that and shrugged. It wasn’t as if Balor had been missing it.

The coin was heavy in his palm; Dream flipped it and felt like something had smacked him across the back of the head. He stumbled forward a step and when he picked his head up found that he was standing clear across campus, people milling around like the taping was still going on. Some intern walked by and caught his eye, giving him a nod. “Good match tonight!” the kid said. “You got out of there fast, huh? You already done for the night?”

Dream nodded, his mouth dry. The intern walked by and Dream stepped back into the roof underhang shadow, examining the coin in his hand. He flipped it again, that feeling like someone had sapped the back of his skull hitting him, but when he opened his eyes he found himself back at the deserted parking lot. He suddenly felt woozy, tight band of pain wrapping around his head like the onset of a migraine; he looked down at the coin and saw a hash mark scratched into the side with the arches that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Dream shook his head and slipped the coin back into his pocket. Maybe Regal was right, he should pack it in for the night, his mind was playing tricks on him. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his aching forehead and ordered a car, deciding that maybe driving wasn’t the best idea he could have right now. 

He bit his lip as he waited and turned the coin over in his hand and wondered.

**Three Months Later**

Dream almost lost his footing and crashed down right on his face when something ( _someone_ ) jumped on his back from the scaffolding from the promo set. “You’re it!” he heard shrieked into his ear, followed by manic giggles as two hands clamped tight over his eyes.

“Get off get off _get off_ ,” he said, managing to swing Nikki Cross over his shoulder. She landing mostly on her feet, a huge smile on her face as Dream tried to recover any last shreds of dignity. 

“I like this game.”

“Yeah, well, the Dream doesn’t. This shirt cost too much money to play games with you.” He’d been wearing a hat, too; after a few seconds of looking around he found where he had rolled off into the corner. “Thought we were finally done with you,” he said, trying to brush some dust off of the brim.

“Soon. Packing up today.” She scrambled back up on the set scaffold like a demented marmoset. “But I couldn’t leave yet. I wasn’t done playing with you.”

Dream groaned. “What is your issue with me? I’ve never bothered you, leave me alone.”

“How did you do it?” she said, stopping him midstep as he tried to escape. He turned around and she was looking seriously at him now, the weird energy gone in a flash. “I know what you did, but not how. How were you here and there?”

Dream shook his head. “I never have any idea what you’re talking about.” He started walking away despite himself but then paused, considering. “Hey, you and the rest of Sanity, you’re into that weird stuff, right? Mythology and folklore and all that? I see you reading about it sometimes.”

“I can read, yes,” she said, completely deadpan. 

“Can you read this?” he said, showing her the coin. She held out her hand for it and it took him a moment to hand it over, feeling oddly reluctant about it. “I’ve had it a while now but I don’t know what it says.”

She looked it over for second. “I’m Scottish, this is Irish.”

“I know there’s the difference,” he snapped defensively.

She giggled at him again, apparently delighted at making him feel dumb. “I can’t read it but I do know what this is,” she said, just as he was about to snatch it back. “Killian’s told me stories.” She turned it over a few times, being what seemed to Dream inordinately careful with it, especially for her. “Where did you get this?”

“I didn’t steal it,” he said, managing to grab it back after a few seconds of her trying to hold it out of reach. “Forget I said anything.”

She didn’t seem offended, if that was even possible. “Why didn’t you ask Black about it? He would know.”

Dream sighed, letting the gold catch the light before putting it away again. “Got the feeling he might make me give it to him,” he admitted.

“Oh, he definitely would,” she said, laughing at him. “Have you played with it yet?”

“What? No,” he said, remembering just as he said that the weirdness that night at Full Sail. “Not really. You said you knew what it was, what is it?”

“It’s a wishing coin. They’re supposed to let you do something you wish you’d done, but only if you know how to use it. Lots of bad ends in those stories. Usually they’re a little bit cursed.”

Dream felt a shiver go down his back. “How do I pick what I want to do? In the stories I mean, how does that work?”

“It picks for you, or at least that’s usually how it goes. Forcing things gets…messy,” she said, a wide, rapt smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Because now I know.” She hopped off the scaffold, booping one finger against his nose. “I won’t tell anyone. But you shouldn’t be embarrassed. You were very sweet.”

Dream watched her walk away, confused and vaguely hostile the way everyone was after a long conversation with Nikki Cross. “Good riddance,” he muttered to himself. He had more important things to think about now than her, though; he held the coin in his palm again, wondering if he was imagining that it felt heavier than a few seconds ago. 

He held his breath and flipped it.

**First Try**

The short, sudden burst of pain radiating out from the base of his skull almost forced him down to his knees, but his vision cleared quickly and he was able to shake it off. When he looked up he saw that he was at Full Sail, the sun long gone down, people milling around the way they did at the tail end of a taping. Dream felt a thrill go down his spine all the way to his fingertips; he took out his phone and waited for the gps to reset, his breath catching when he saw the time and the very significant date. 

What he wanted to do, indeed.

He hunkered down by the edge of the patio section and waited; standing out in the open would probably do the trick just as well, Johnny Gargano was a coward and wouldn’t strike if he and Aleister were both there, but he wanted to know where Gargano had come from because that had never made any security footage.

He didn’t have long to wait. Aleister stepped into view, paying attention to his phone instead of looking out for people trying to murder him, followed not long after by Johnny Gargano emerging from one of the darkened walking paths. Dream took the opportunity to step out of his own shadows, as if he’d innocently just taken a shortcut. Aleister nodded to him, Dream nodding back, then he made a point of stopping short and looking Johnny dead in the eye. “Hey Gargano, why’re you hiding back there?”

Aleister spun around, spotting him, and the jig was well and truly up then; Gargano plastered a fake smile on his face and waved to the two of them, fading back into the darkness like was trying to be swallowed up by the ground. Dream laughed to himself and lingered around, keeping one eye on Aleister in case Johnny decided to get brave. It didn’t happen and Aleister slid his phone into his pocket, giving Dream a long, curious look before he left. 

The wave of relief almost took Dream off his feet. He sat up on one of the tables and tried to calm down his racing heart for a few seconds before he took a breath and flipped the coin to go back, feeling accomplished.

Dream felt like someone had whacked him in the back of the head with a hammer. He dropped hard to his knees, bile creeping up his throat. He pushed himself over to sit against the wall until the nausea passed; he’d got some kickback the first time he’d used the coin but this was much worse. It passed though, and Dream felt that giddy relief wash over him again.

Right up until he googled the results of that Takeover and found that nothing had changed after all.

Dream leaned his head back against the wall, turning the coin over in his fingers. It just hadn’t stuck, that was all. He’d messed it up somehow. He’d get it right the next time. 

He looked down at the coin and realized there was another hash mark next to the arches, which he recognized now as a stylized hourglass. Plenty of room for more. He would figure this out.

**Second Try**

Dream crept around the edges of the campus, being careful to avoid the security cameras as much as possible. He stationed himself in the shadows of that dark little path and waited, compulsively checking his phone. A few seconds now. Almost time.

He saw Aleister come into view just as steps came crunching up behind him. Johnny walked right past him, oblivious, and Dream pounced, grabbing the man before he could even shout and locking him into the DreamOver. Johnny went out like a light and Dream crouched over him. “Yeah, that’s what you get.”

Dream straightened up and kicked Johnny a few times for good measure. He kept watch until Aleister was safely away, then flipped.

It took at least two long, painful minutes before Dream could pick himself up from the floor of his hotel room. When he checked his phone he wasn’t surprised that change hadn’t stuck, but it had been so satisfying that he couldn’t regret giving it a shot anyway.

**Third Try**

Maybe a little less violence would do the trick. Dream waited off that dark path for Johnny to come by and pounced on him again, this time just dragging him off into the brush with his hand over Johnny’s mouth. “I know what you’re thinking of doing,” Dream said into his ear. “You turn around right now and maybe everyone gets to Takeover, you hear me?”

For a second he thought Johnny might put up a fight but Dream emerging from the darkness like the manifestation of Johnny’s guilty conscience seemed to have shaken him. When Dream let him go Johnny just brushed himself off, giving Dream a look that was both murderous and spooked. Dream thought he might try to defend himself but couldn’t seem to find the words, looking out at Aleister like he was looking at a ghost before turning on his heel and walking away. 

Dream flipped the coin and felt like he’d been hit by a truck. 

This time he was surprised the changes didn’t take, frantically hitting search as if it was the internet that was wrong. He leaned his head back against his bed, feeling like he was full of broken glass. “Oh come on, I was nice that time,” he said, trying to bargain with the universe. He looked at down at the increasingly scratched up coin. “You’re not going to beat me. I will figure you out.”

He saw a drop of red on the coin, then another. There was something wet on his face and when he reached up he realized his nose was bleeding.

Maybe he should hurry up on the figuring out.

**Ninth Try**

The direct approach did not work. Any kind of laying hands on Johnny or well timed heroics just resulted in him getting mule kicked by the return trip, none of it stuck. Somewhere around trip six it had started to sink in that he wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening, it had to be allowed. He’d fought that realization for a long time but he couldn’t any more, stopping Johnny from attacking, distracting Aleister so he didn’t go out there by himself at all, it all lead to the same result. Even jumping in to help fight Johnny off hadn’t worked; he’d really thought he might be dying on the return from that try, although that hadn’t been half as bad as hanging back and letting Johnny touch Aleister had been to watch.

Dream watched the seconds tick down on his phone. He had this down to a science now, he knew the exact second Johnny came out of the darkness, the instant Johnny first hit him. Last time he’d tried sending someone over to catch him in the act but that had been too much, too. He watched the long, awful seconds tick by and sprang up, making sure to grab the same ref who’d found Aleister in the first place. “Hey, hey, I heard some fighting over there by the parking lot, you should go check it out.” Fights in Full Sail’s parking happened often enough that it wasn’t even suspicious and Dream watched him hustle away, feeling guilt claw up his stomach. It didn’t feel like enough . It didn’t feel like much of anything, really, but at least with this he could make sure Aleister would be found right away. He told himself at least that was something.

He flipped the coin and blacked out for a few seconds. He came to on the floor and immediately launched into a wracking, compulsive coughing fit; when it finally eased after a few agonizing minutes Dream saw that he’d hacked up enough blood to make a semi-alarming crime scene. He cleaned up as best he could and collapsed against the bed, knowing there was no point in checking his phone. “That was literally the least I could do,” he whispered. “The hell do you want from me?”

**Eleventh Try**

Dream flipped the coin.

This time the pain radiated out from the back of his skull all the way down, until it felt like his ribs had each caught fire. But he could take it. He had to take it, this wouldn’t be like the other times, this time he’d figured it out.

Once his vision cleared Dream looked up and breathed a sigh of relief; right where he always showed up. Every time he tried this he was always worried that part would change. He kept out of sight as best he could, skulking around the outskirts of the quad just out of range of the cameras, he was practiced at this by now. He hunkered down and waited; his phone gps had adjusted and when he looked down he saw that he had a long, long fifteen minutes of waiting ahead of him.

Dream never wondered any more how no one could have seen the attack; the little patio space was deserted and deathly quiet, everyone was clustered on the other side by catering, being social. Of course this was where Aleister would go.

Dream held his breath as Aleister stepped into view, looking at something on his phone. This was the part Dream could never handle; he saw movement in the darkness and made out Johnny Gargano walking up the path. Johnny stopped short when he saw Aleister, and Dream hoped that maybe _this_ time, somehow, the butterfly would flap its wings enough for Johnny to just turn around on his own.

And Johnny did take one stutter step back but he always did, always that one little burst of hope. Then he turned around and Dream clenched his fist so tight he felt the coin cut into his palm. Johnny moved fast now, feral, picking up one of the loose bricks from the pathway wall. 

Seeing Aleister crumple as Johnny hit him somehow got harder each time Dream had to see it. He forced himself to stay put, biting his lip until he tasted blood when Aleister dropped to his hands and knees. Johnny grabbed Aleister by his hair, being careful to stay behind him, and measured him with the brick before hitting him again. Aleister went limp and after a second to make sure he was out Johnny dropped him on his face. Johnny kicked the brick off into the grass and wiped his hands on his clothes, pacing back and forth a few steps like he wasn’t sure what to do now. He stepped back toward Aleister, looking him over, then toed him over onto his back and waited a few seconds to see if there would be a reaction. Finally Johnny nodded to himself and strolled back up the path. 

Dream was going to hurt him the next time he got the chance.

He’d been just about to move out of hiding when he heard heavy footsteps coming from the near lot and swore under his breath; he’d forgotten that Sullivan had heard the scuffle and come over to investigate (but not report it to anyone, because Lars Sullivan was that kind of guy.) This was the first time he’d kept himself back long enough for Sullivan to even be an issue. He squeezed the coin in his fist as Lars came into view, standing over Aleister. Sullivan had claimed he’d done nothing more than gloat but Dream had never been all that convinced he’d been telling the truth.

Dream didn’t care what kind of pain it would put him in, he’d already made himself watch Johnny’s dirty work, he would be damned if he would sit back and watch Sullivan touch him too. Dream did not have that in him tonight.

Fortunately it seemed like Sullivan had been telling the truth, not doing more than prod Aleister with his boot a few times before laughing and striding off.

Dream was going to hurt him right when he was done with Johnny.

When he was sure the coast was clear Dream crept forward and stood over Aleister, what he’d just made himself sit through making his skin feel like it was about to crawl off his body. It felt almost like he’d done it, somehow. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to keep it from happening, I tried.” He looked at the coin in his hand and felt the bile rise. “The hell is the point?” he said to it. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Dream sank crosslegged on the ground, realizing only after doing it that it was Aleister’s pose. The damp from the ground seeped through his jeans but Dream paid it no mind; he put one hand on Aleister’s chest, feeling his pounding heart slow as the adrenaline from the fight faded. He picked up Aleister’s limp hand from the pavement and squeezed hard. “Okay. Okay, then,” he said. “Help’s gonna come but I’m going to be right here until it does.” He set an alarm on his phone and put it down beside him, hugging his free arm against his aching ribs. 

A few minutes of silence crawled by, then Aleister let out a soft, pained sound, too quiet to be a moan, and Dream snapped back to attention. “Black?” he said, alarm kicking off an adrenaline spike of his own. He’d never dreamed Aleister had woken up at all, everyone had been so sure he’d been out the whole time. “Easy, take it easy, you’re all right.”

He wasn’t sure Aleister could hear him; he lifted one shaking hand toward his head, or tried to anyway, whimpering again. “I know it hurts,” Dream said, needing to keep talking. “But you’re going to be fine.”

Aleister’s head turned slightly toward his voice, trying to force his eyes open but only half managing it. His breathing had picked up, coming in shallow, rapid gasps although Dream didn’t know if it was from pain or shock or some awful combination of the two. Dream could feel him shaking and stroked his thumb over Aleister’s knuckles, trying to give him something to focus on that wasn’t pain.

Dream moved over as close to him as he could. “Black,” he said, making sure to keep his voice calm and even. “Black, look at me.” Aleister’s head turned toward him again; Dream could tell he wasn’t focusing enough to really see him but it was close enough. “Help is coming. It is. They’re coming, and they’re going to take care of you and you’re going to be fine.” He squeezed Aleister’s hand. “And I will be here every second until they do. You understand?”

Dream didn’t think he actually did but the panicked edge to his breathing calmed down just the slightest bit. Dream could see the lights were starting to go out again and that Aleister was fighting that as hard as he could. “Shh,” he said. “I told you, you’re going to be fine.” He stroked his thumb over Aleister’s knuckles in smooth, he hoped to God soothing strokes. Aleister squeezed his hand as his eyes drifted closed again and Dream felt his chest clench tight. “You’re good. I promise you’ll be good.”

Very gradually the grip went slack and his breathing slowed. Dream put one hand on his chest again, needing to feel his heart beating, but everything seemed as fine as it was going to be able to be.

When his phone alarm chimed Dream lingered more than it was really safe to. It wasn’t until he heard a voice approach that he willed himself to leave, kissing the back of Aleister’s hand as he stood up. He managed to slip away before anyone saw him and sank down against the wall of one of the outbuildings, shaking like a leaf himself now. He absently flexed his hand. Aleister holding on tight to him as he passed out was going to live in his head forever.

He fished the coin out of his pocket. “Okay,” he said, his voice rough. “Okay, fuck me all up, I don’t care. That was worth it.” He flipped the coin and tried to brace.

He opened his eyes and found himself at home, no pain. He hung his head over his knees and laughed. _You were very sweet._ “Okay, okay fine. I’ll take it. We’re even now,” he said to the coin before pocketing it. He was going to have find something to do with it before its possibilities got too tempting, but just for tonight he was content to appreciate even a small victory.

**Brooklyn**

Aleister couldn’t pretend he wasn’t pleased to see Dream saunter up toward him. “You are a hard man to find, Aleister Black.”

He wondered how long Dream had been looking; the meeting room he’d commandeered was far enough from the backstage festivities that he almost couldn’t hear the roar. “That’s by intention.”

Dream grinned at that, seeming to take it as a compliment to his persistence, and leaned against the wall beside him. “So what happened? You and ol’ Ricochet on the outs already?”

“Hardly. He knows the celebrations are much more his environment than mine.”

“Yeah, it’s hell of a party he’s got cooking and we’re not even back at the hotel yet. Kinda figured it wasn’t your scene.”

“I’m surprised it isn’t yours.”

Dream shrugged. “Riddle’s at the party, it would be a little awkward to go when I embarrassed him like that tonight. And besides, any party that allows someone to attend in flip flops is not a party I will ever be seen in.” Dream went quiet for a few moments, his expression turning thoughtful. “We could feel the walls shaking in the back, the crowd was so loud for your match. They love you,” he said, his voice oddly soft. 

Aleister held his gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to let Dream know he was aware of what they were actually talking about. “I will miss this,” he said, matching Dream’s tone.

Dream looked away for a moment, rubbing both hands over his arms. “Since you’re about done with all this I guess it’s about time I give you this,” he said, fishing for something in his pockets. 

Aleister had never been more thankful that he’d trained his emotions not to show on his face than when he was casually handed over one of the most dangerous talismans in the known record. “Where did you find it?”

Dream shrugged. “Found me, really. You’ll be seeing Balor all the time now, maybe you could give it back. I, uh, may have taken it on a test drive or two, hope he doesn’t mind. I didn’t use it again,” he said, as if he wanted to make very sure Aleister knew that. 

Before Aleister could pull his thoughts together Ricochet burst into the room, holding one bottle of champagne by the neck and doused in what looked like an entire second one. “There you are, I’ve been looking,” he sounding giddy and just a shade passed buzzed. “Allie, people are asking for you, I can’t keep putting ‘em off. Come over and make the rounds. Hey, Dream!” 

Ricochet left again like a storm blowing through and Aleister must have looked faintly appalled enough for Dream to put one hand on his shoulder. “I should have kidnapped you.”

“You didn’t bring that up as an option.”

Dream laughed, the hand on his shoulder sliding down to the small of his back. “Once you escape from them, if you want a _real_ going away experience you know how to find me,” he said, playing up the old button pushing bravado as if for old time’s sake. “Be like I won the NA title all over again.”

With that Dream left him to his fate and his thoughts. He turned the coin over in his hand, sliding his nail along the many hashmarks marring the side. _I didn’t use it **again**_. Aleister sat down against the wall as some misaligned edges of his life suddenly fit together.

When Ricochet came to collect him again Aleister was glad for the distraction.

**Two Days Later**

It had been a long time since Aleister had been given the opportunity for truly righteous anger. He knocked on Finn’s hotel room door, closing it behind him without a word and ignoring the friendly greeting. The confusion on Finn’s face evaporated when he saw the coin in Aleister’s hand. “How do you leave something like this where it could just be _found_?” he said, carefully placing the thing on the desk. 

Finn looked delighted to see it again. “Someone finally found it,” he said, picking it up and examining it. “It’s been years, I was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen.”

“They’re too dangerous to leave to chance.”

“Do not lecture me, I have my ways and you have yours. And if it was found it was because it was needed, we both know that.” His tone softened when he saw the extent of the markings on the ledger side. “Someone wanted something very badly.” The mask slipped just the slightest bit as he looked back at Aleister; he’d let the Demon out just hours ago and things like that didn’t always like to be stuffed back in their boxes. “Are you more upset that it was used or at what it was used for?” Aleister stayed silent and Finn blinked, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say that. “You know this can’t come back to me,” he said, an apologetic tone to his voice. 

“How do we destroy it?” 

Finn shrugged. “The usual ways. But if you’re concerned about it getting loose again there’s only one trip left on it.” He handed it back. “It was given to you. You would know the rules better than most.” He sat on the edge of the bed, an expectant look on his face. “I don’t think you’re the type to retrace your steps, but there must be one quiet moment you can slip into. One spot of regret to wash away. Isn’t there?”

And Aleister realized there was one loose end he could use this to tie away.

**Full Sail**

Even Velveteen Dream could get overwhelmed by a victory party. Aleister found him in a seldom used hallway, crouched against the wall and gazing with adoration at his newly won title. He looked up when he heard Aleister approach, delight all over his face, and it was so rare to see emotion not buried under layers of artifice from him that the pain and disorientation from using the coin suddenly seemed of little consequence. “Black!” he said, straightening up and gesturing for Aleister to come stand with him. “I thought you were long gone, I know you don’t like to watch Gargano’s matches.”

“I made an exception.”

“I told him. I told him how it would be. That’s what he _gets_.” Dream said, a vicious twist on the last word. 

Aleister let him revel in his hard won victory for a few moments. “While I was recovering I had a recurring dream.” He kept his tone casual but in his peripheral vision saw Dream’s expression freeze. “In the dream I’m lying on the ground and have no memory of how I got there. The ground is damp and I can feel the chill from that in my bones. My head feels like someone has split it open with an axe and when I try to move I can’t. The thought comes to me that I may be dying.” Dream was hugging his title across his chest now, not looking at Aleister. “But in the dream, someone is holding my hand, and telling me that help will find me. Confidently, like he was very sure it was true.” Aleister briefly let himself feel everything related to that night; healing from it had been as much mental as physical. “I can’t see very well but the voice is one I know, and so when the pain pushes me back under I let myself trust that it won’t drown me.” 

Aleister let his words hang in the air for a few minutes. “But of course this was all just an invention of shock. My mind creating a fiction to comfort itself. The person I see couldn’t have really been there because there is video proof that he was no where near me.” He let himself look at Dream. “Isn’t that true?” Dream didn’t have an answer. “Those coins are dangerous,” Aleister said, softening his voice.

Dream shook his head. “She said she wouldn’t tell anyone, I knew she was full of it.”

“It’s not like you to do something and not seek attention for it.”

“I didn’t do it for attention. I did it….” He sighed. “I needed to do it. I tried to do a lot more, it just didn’t take.” He reached into his pocket and took out the coin. “I’m guessing you want to take this off my hands, huh?”

And Aleister desperately did but didn’t let himself touch it. “I can’t take it now.” Dream frowned in confusion and Aleister continued, “They’re transitional objects. They can be found at any time but once one has an owner they can only change hands to mark a beginning or an ending. If I took it now it would reappear in your possession within the day. Some disciplines uses them to mark turning points.”

“But not yours.”

“ _No_.”

“I just won my first title. That’s a beginning.”

“You knew you were a champion long before you had a title to prove it.”

Dream grinned, pleased by the unexpected flattery. “Yeah, guess that’s true.”

“Promise me you will never use it again.”

Dream looked up, seeming a little surprised by the vehemence in Aleister’s voice. “I won’t. I got everything I needed from it anyway. Truth be told I don’t know if I could handle the kick from using it another time.”

The array of hashmarks on the coin haunted Aleister. “Why did you use it at all?”

Dream shook his head slowly, turning the coin over in his fingers. “You know how sometimes you get an image in your head, and it plays and plays and plays no matter what you do? Like a ghost image in a bad photo, everywhere you look you see it. You on the ground was that. I couldn’t shake it. Using this thing hurt like hell but that was killing me slow.” His lips quirked up. “And besides, you know I don’t tap out.”

Aleister frowned, a stray fragment from that dream suddenly sifting free. “Did you kiss me?”

Managing to embarrass Velveteen Dream was a very rare achievement. “No! I mean, not really.” He sighed. “I thought you were long out by the time I did that.” He grabbed Aleister’s hand and kissed it. “Like that. That’s all.” 

Dream didn’t let go of Aleister’s hand and Aleister didn’t ask him to. “I thought I’d imagined that part too.”

Dream caught something in his tone, squeezing his hand. He took a deep breath, like he was building himself up to hit his finisher, then kissed Aleister’s palm. He saw some of that drunk giddiness of a big win come back into Dream’s eyes as he trailed his fingertips up Aleister’s arm, hesitating for just an instant before kissing Aleister on the lips. “Black, you ever think you imagined me kissing you and want confirmation, you do not need to wait all this time to do it.”

Dream’s phone went off and he groaned. “People are looking for you to start your victory party.”

He shook his head. “I have no plans,” he insisted, although he was certainly dressed like he did. “Surprised you’re not wherever it is you go after tapings.”

Aleister ran his tongue over his lips. “I would regret missing this.”

Dream’s eyes went wide for an instant, like he’d been unprepared to take that, then he kissed Aleister hard. “I have plans now. We both have plans. I need your night free. No one else. I’m the champion, I get that.”

Aleister draped the title over Dream’s shoulder. “We should leave now before we run into anyone we shouldn’t.”

Dream grinned. “I have some experience with that lately. Follow me, I know all the shortcuts. Come on.”


End file.
